Selfish Acts Of An Emotionally Crippled Poet Poem by Not Long Left
Selfish Acts Of An Emotionally Crippled Poet
It was not the grief on your face
That worried me,
It was the lack of inspiration,
Coming from this desperate situation.
For how could I offer any comfort
If I could not convert
Your all consuming pain,
Into a poem.
Like a photographer in a war zone
I try to capture the moment,
Using the most shocking of sights
just to fullfil those often lonely nights.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/2/2024 3:13:21 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Tragically true. I imagine a thousand of us could say the same thing at this very moment. But you say it better.